Onestar groggily opened his eyes, the harsh light blinding him.
His head throbbed, and he could feel the dried blood in his fur. Twisting his head round slowly, he stared at the long gash on his side. It wasn't too deep, but he had lost a fair amount of blood. The last thing he could remember was hunting near the Twoleg farm, alone, when he was grabbed, slashed with a silver claw, and bundled into a cardboard box. Now he was in a small, dark Twoleg nest, with a window on either side of a single room.
He remembered that before they left the old forest, cats had been captured and held in metal cages; he was in one now, but he was alone. The cage was set on a wooden table, and next to him was a pile of long, dangerous looking Twoleg things. One had a wide head with lots of spikes fanned out, and another was standing upside down, its head covered in hard looking bristles. Smaller objects lined the shelves of a cabinet. Another shelf had a row of plants; he recognised the scent of catnip, marigold and lavender.
Through the window, he could see that it was dark outside, but the moon highlighted the branches of a tree. Was he still at the farm, or had he been taken somewhere else? He tried to remember more, but his head was hurting, and he abandoned the questions, letting it sink onto his paws.
Am I ever going to see my Clan again? he wondered. Pangs of mixed anger, fear and sandness filled his heart. His last thought before he fell asleep was whether he would ever have a chance to make things right with his beloved daughter, Heathertail.